Now he was sitting out on his back porch pickin'
When I snuck up behind his shack
He was playin' this ol' beat-up guitar of his
To a dog that he called Jack
Now my daddy used to tell me boy,
Don't go wanderin' round his place
Why that man could be the devil's right arm,
He's got evil in his face
But boy, he could make that guitar sound like
It cost a few hundred dollar bill
Even though he'd lost four of his fingers
Workin' in a back woods sawmill
I used to stand there in the darkness
And I'd listen while he played
And until this day I can still recall
Every lick he ever made
Well he played punk and Blues, folk and Rock,
He didn't know they had a name
But he could ring them strings,
Make em sing, he was way ahead of the game
Well he took his thumb and he'd slap it numb
And say «Jack, this is how it's done
So just lay back and listen boy,
To the man with the golden thumb»
One night I finally got up my nerve see,
And I walked up to that old man
And them cold black eyes stared down at me
And my feet kinda shuffled in the sand
He said, «Hey kid,
Whatcha doin' hangin' round an old man like me?»
I said,
«Mister, I just love your pickin'»;
He said,
«Well, then pull up and have a seat!»
Well I spent a lot of time in his cabin,
Just him and that old dog, and me
And it was there that I heard the best guitar
In the state of Tennessee
And to my eyes it was a miracle
Just to see the way it was done
The good Lord made him born blind
But He gave him a golden thumb
Let's pick them guitars!
I spent a lot of time at his cabin,
And he taught me everything I know
He said «Boy, let's take your guitar and my banjo
And let's hit the road»
Well, we went to Dallas and we killed 'em,
We blew 'em away in New Orleans
We raised the roof in ol' Saint Lou
And I can still hear the people scream
I can feel him in my fingers,
You can hear him every time
I strum
Heard a whole lot of pickers
But they can't hold a candle
To the man with the golden thumb
Sing it, boy
He played punk and Blues, folk and Rock,
He didn't know they had a name
But he could ring them strings, make em sing,
He was way ahead of the game
Well he took his thumb and slap it numb
And say «son, here's how it's done
If you take note
You might learn to play
Like the man with the golden thumb»
Hang on, here it comes…